Warning: Amphigorical Content!

grubby grists of euphuistic prolixity

Saturday, 24 September 2011

Unsung Shales

Slick obsidian panes incite the impish gurgling water
(hurled a thunder-laden mile or more by heaven's fit of pique)
to mirror some last dazzling drops of blood from Hera's dying daughter
spilled at skypool's rim through butchered clouds where shards of fire still leak

Corvid-skinned, the shadowed gables find vertiginous retreat
(or is the gloss-winged ravens' short-lived fluttering a trick of light?)
before they sleep with one eye open stretch their tails and find their feet
ready to defend against the blindly stumbling night

Below, the dripping gutter's brow on spindling trunks so far from earth
clings fast with tooth and nail to sleeping walls whose dusky bricks re-dream
those heady days when long-dead kilns had spawned their calm and ordered birth
unprepared for greatness in Victoria's mighty age of steam

Friday, 23 September 2011

faren wel

your eyes now old, still clear and bright
the body, toils of war made slight
this hand I hold, tho' frail, yet warm and light


exchange no words of consequence
against your gaze I've no defence
our common loss becomes uncommon sense


the years between hold us in thrall
we miss the night's last footsteps fall
my friend, oh were you ever really here... at all?


alone I watch the dawn ignite
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Spagphacious Aeolotony by Philip Damian-Grint is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License
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